


A Place Further Than the Universe

by communikate



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Antarctica, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, It's only a line or two but thought I should tag just in case, M/M, Mutual Pining, Survival, Survival Horror, Texting, Wilderness Survival, mentions of cannibalism, text message AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:27:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23208475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/communikate/pseuds/communikate
Summary: January 2 2031, 10:51pmKeithJanuary 2 2031, 10:53pmKeith, if I don’t make it out of this frozen wasteland, I need you to know that I love you. Have always, always loved you. Your determination, your fiery jokes and willingness to help everyone, your big heart and compassion and god, don’t get me started on your looks. You’re beautiful. Especially when you’re talking about something that you’re passionate about. That small smile you get on your face, and you look up at me andI should have kissed you before I left. I should have told you all of this rather than over a shitty text message that won’t ever send, but I at least had to say it.January 2 2031, 10:53pmEven if it’ll never reach you~❅~❅~❅~On the day of Shiro's funeral, Keith receives hundreds of messages from a dead man -- one that vows to return to him.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron), Minor or Background Relationship(s), Previous Shiro/Adam (Voltron)
Comments: 36
Kudos: 220





	A Place Further Than the Universe

**Author's Note:**

> I originally started this fic back in February of 2018 based on a writing prompt I can no longer find (>_<)
> 
> It wasn't supposed to be this long, but I loved writing all of Shiro's messages to Keith, and I hope you enjoy reading them!!
> 
> Additionally, the title of this fic is from a really cute anime under the same name! A much happier tale of journeying to Antarctica haha
> 
> Small warning for the fic  
> I have tagged that there is a small mention of cannibalism in this fic. It's mostly a throw away line, but if you don't want to read it, please skip the message from March 28 2031, 7:33am and the following paragraph.  
> Stay safe ♡ and I hope you enjoy!

The last time Keith walked beyond the Garrison campus, it was to wish Shiro goodbye before the Kerberos mission. Now, it was to say goodbye again.

And it was all bullshit.

Soldiers lined the pathway to the small cemetary at the edge of Garrison property. The headstones appeared like a sea of white in the distance, stark against the perfectly trimmed green grass -- a strange sight in the heat of Arizona. But with each step closer, between the rows of named and unnamed soldiers, dread settled low in Keith’s stomach.

He hadn’t wanted to come.

This whole charade was only to cover up the Garrison’s lies.

~~_Pilot error._ ~~

But that morning before his alarm went off, when the soft desert breeze blew through his windows and hinted at the looming spring heat, Keith thought about the Shiroganes. Shiro’s mom and grandfather, standing over the grave. Dressed in black in the never-fading Arizona heat.

What if Keith’s steely determination, the iron belief that Shiro was alive, wasn’t true, and Keith didn’t pay his respects to his best and only friend, his mentor, the person who had always been there for him?

Dragging himself out of bed, he donned his black suit and wrinkled dress shirt. The sleeves were too short, the back stretched tightly across his shoulder blades, and he couldn’t button the jacket without the fear that it would tear. It was so strange to see such a blatant reminder of how much time had passed since the last time he wore this suit, since his father’s funeral.

The tie was a tourniquet around his neck, suffocating even more than the day’s mounting heat. The sun was just breaching the tops of the mountains in the distance, coloring the sky a glorious red of dawn.

But Keith couldn’t look at the sky or the soldiers he walked passed or even at the open grave where Shiro’s empty coffin would lay. He couldn’t look at Shiro’s grandfather, hunched over his cane, with a frown set so deeply into his wrinkled expression. Or Shiro’s mother, who held a white handkerchief to her mouth as each breath shuddered through her. Or Shiro’s ex-fiance, Adam, who stood tall in his Garrison issued uniform with his hat set so low no one could see the glint of tears in his eyes.

Keith could only look at the ground and the way dust gathered in the lines of his once-polished dress shoes.

Everything was muddled -- the songs, the words of peace, the quotes from the bible -- until a group of soldiers marched Shiro’s empty coffin down the pathway Keith had just traveled. It hung between their hands, too light to carry a body. It’s sleek black exterior felt like a bullet through Keith’s heart.

His bangs dipped in front of his vision as the Shiroganes laid white chrysanthemums on Shiro’s coffin. Hands clenched so tightly at his sides. Each breath was a struggle, a bitter fight against the sobs that threatened to burst from his trembling lips.

Adam pushed a flower into Keith’s hands, gaze steady before he nodded at Keith and stepped up to the casket. Keith watched Adam lean over the coffin, hands curled against the wood, and whisper something to the empty air. His hands left streaks of sweat on the polished exterior, but none of them seemed to mind.

They all knew this was a formality anyway.

Because supposedly no one could survive the harsh Antarctic winters with the supplies they were given and the inoperable base they were tasked with re-opening. It was practically archaic, they’d argued when Keith had stormed into the Garrison offices with gnashing teeth and fury in his blood. And that was even if they made it to the base.

Iverson gave Keith a pitiful stare as the news flashed on a TV behind him.

Pilot Error.

But Shiro had been the best pilot of their generation. The best simulation scores the Garrison had ever seen. That was why they sent him on this mission, a young man of twenty-five, one that could bear through unexpected snow storms or blizzards or whatever the arctic threw at them.

And yet, the Garrison claimed pilot error. Splattered it in the news and tabloids.

Keith knew it was anything but that, and glancing around at the soldiers surrounding Shiro’s grave, he knew they thought so too.

But even if the Kerberos team made it to the base, could they have survived this past winter? Could they have survived nine months in the arctic with only a month’s worth of supplies?

It was why the mission was dubbed the “Kerberos mission.” It was a place more distant than the universe, than the coldest moon of the coldest planet in their solar system.

And there would be no coming back.

Adam straightened his shoulders and stepped away from the empty casket. His steady hand buffered Keith’s back and pushed him forward. When Keith turned with bared teeth, he caught Adam’s expression. Even under the darkness of his uniform hat, the pain was so stark that Keith almost choked on his own -- the ache that hadn’t left his beating heart in the nine months since the Kerberos launch.

With a soft nod, Keith stepped forward out of the warmth of Adam’s hand and to the coffin. The flower was bent in his curling fists, but he laid it down next to the others, blooms threatening to wilt in the coming heat.

Leaning down to the casket, as if Shiro was within, as if Shiro could hear him, Keith whispered, “I will find you.” And it felt like a promise, not a eulogy for a dead man.

~❅~❅~❅~

The reception was later in the day, held for all of the members of the Kerberos mission. Across the converted banquet hall, Keith saw Colleen and Katie Holt, mother and daughter of Samual Holt, leader of the Kerberos mission. A sob caught in Keith’s throat at the sight of Katie with her hair cut short and a pair of Matt’s old glasses perched on her nose; they looked so similar, it was like a ghost had come to haunt the Garrison in a vestige of black tulle.

A line of soldiers walked past the Holts, shaking their hands and offering condolences. The Garrison staff all looked like the perfect mourners, saluting and praising Matt and Sam’s service and sacrifice. _(as if they didn’t declare the entire Kerberos team dead after only nine months, claiming that they’d more than doubly outlived their supplies -- even if they had conserved as they all knew Commander Holt would’ve done -- because supposedly there was “only so long you could live in those conditions.”)_

But thankfully, no one but Adam came to speak with him, and even then Keith couldn’t meet Adam’s gaze at the reception, afraid he would see the ‘I told you so’ in his expression.

So Keith sipped on stolen champagne and fought against the rage that bubbled in his blood at the sheer audacity. The half-empty bottle of champagne he smuggled out of the Garrison under his suit jacket felt like a minor victory in the face of everything. But it was a victory nonetheless.

~❅~❅~❅~

Keith dug his fingers into the silk tie tourniqueted around his neck, yanking it down so it hung lopsidedly against his chest. Tearing off his too-small suit jacket, Keith threw it onto the only chair in his small shack. He slumped onto the couch and finally let out a shuddering breath.

He buried his head deeper into the pillow on his makeshift bed, banishing the mournful songs and the sobs of those grieving. Curling his fists in the throw blanket, he thought he would never be able to fall asleep -- especially with all of these memories and fragile nostalgia pulsing in his mind.

But exhaustion claimed him, and he fell into a fitful sleep.

~❅~❅~❅~

Slapping his makeshift coffee table, Keith struggled to stop the incessant buzzing. It had been going nonstop like an alarm he’d never set. With a growl, Keith snatched the phone and looked at the screen. It wasn’t like anyone would be messaging him now away.

**Messages:**   
_Shiro (206 Unread Messages)_

Keith stilled. Every part of him froze, breath frosting to his ribs and throat collapsing. Tentatively he clicked the message thread, as if a haze of a dream had taken over him, he began reading the messages.

**December 13 2030, 2:34pm**  
_Hey Keith, even though I don’t have service this far South -- well this far away from any civilization, but I thought you would appreciate the thought. I’ll make sure all of these send when we’re flying back in a month, that way you can have something to read while we all unpack. Can’t have you breaking through Garrison security again haha_  
_The landing went well, had to land a little less inland than we wanted due to weather, but we’ve almost made it to the base!_

**December 13 2030, 2:40pm**  
_Day 3. Hour 15. Matthew Holt has officially run out of things to talk about haha ｡ﾟ(TヮT)ﾟ｡_

**December 15 2030, 8:12am**  
_Made it to the base! Well the approximate area of the base, since there is literally nothing down here but snow that stretches on for miles. It’s beautiful._

**December 15 2030, 6:37pm**  
_Matt also keeps calling this my diary. . .but it’s not like I brought another journal or something, so I guess it’s kind of a diary of sorts._

**December 16 2030, 1:03am**  
_Dear Diary haha_  
_but it seems like a storm is rolling in early, pushing back our exploration tomorrow, so another day stuck inside this tent. . .with Matt’s jokes. . .and Dr. Holt’s childhood stories. Yay._

**December 16 2030, 3:20pm**  
_what if I beat all of the candy crush levels while I’m here? it’s not like we have service for me to update (ಥ﹏ಥ)_  
_Keith, what am I going to do?_

**December 19 2030, 9:59pm**  
_Keith, this place is amazing! We found some ice samples that could hold ancient or extinct species. This iceberg that we’ve found could have centuries worth of information!! Matt and Dr. Holt have been going on and on with science jargon that I don’t understand, but they’re starting to teach me_  
_because I only have so many levels of candy crush left (oT-T)尸_

**December 23 2030, 5:14am**  
_okay_

**December 23 2030, 5:14am**  
_I don’t know how to phrase this in a way that doesn’t make me sound crazy_

**December 23 2030, 5:16am**  
_but there’s something out here. I don’t know what it is. but I swear I saw it last night. bigger than a bear_

**December 23 2030, 5:17am**  
_Matt and Dr. Holt didn’t see anything, and they don’t mean to be skeptical -- they trust me, but they’re scientists, Keith. They like data and facts and I have nothing on this other than the feeling that something is watching us._

**December 23 2030, 5:18am**  
_so we aren’t reporting it to the Garrison until we have confirmation_

**December 23 2030, 5:20am**  
_shit, I sound crazy. Just. Just ignore all of that when you get these messages. It’s probably nothing._

Keith’s fingers tightened around his phone, eyes scanning and heart pounding in his ears. He could almost hear Shiro’s voice when he read the texts. His excitement, his jokes and existential humor, his horror and panic.

And the fact that the next message was sent weeks later makes his stomach churn.

**January 2 2031, 10:51pm**  
_Keith_

**January 2 2031, 10:53pm**  
_Keith, if I don’t make it out of this frozen wasteland, I need you to know that I love you. Have always, always loved you. Your determination, your fiery jokes and willingness to help everyone, your big heart and compassion and god, don’t get me started on your looks. You’re beautiful. Especially when you’re talking about something that you’re passionate about. That small smile you get on your face, and you look up at me and_  
_I should have kissed you before I left. I should have told you all of this rather than over a shitty text message that won’t ever send, but I at least had to say it._

**January 2 2031, 10:53pm**  
_Even if it’ll never reach you_

Keith’s hands trembled on the phone, back hunching as he brought the screen closer to his eyes as if that would make what was appearing on his screen real.

Because this had to be some fever dream, something his subconscious was using as a way to cope with the stress of the day, because no matter how much Keith had loved Shiro -- loved his laugh and horrible jokes and the way he supported everyone around him, even while claiming he wasn’t trying, and just how inherent being a good person was to him -- Shiro never loved him back.

Keith knew what he was to Shiro, knew he was a little brother, a mentee, someone Shiro could take from the brink of destruction and bring to the forefront of science.

But Shiro wasn’t the only one who had crashed and burned with the Kerberos mission.

Keith ground his teeth, quickly wiping away the tears that blurred his vision. He hadn’t let himself cry at the funeral, hadn’t wanted to admit that anything had happened to Shiro, hadn’t wanted to play along with his death.

And now, faced with the knowledge that the Kerberos team touched down in Antartica at least for a few weeks, Keith barrelled forward. If these were the last messages Shiro ever sent him, then, by god, Keith was going to cherish them.

Even if he was reading Shiro’s last words.

**January 2 2031, 11:09pm**  
_I should probably tell you what happened. Matt says I need to record everything I’ve got, and right now with the single solar power cell we managed to save, energy is the one thing we have a lot of._

**January 2 2031, 11:11pm**  
_It’s real. The beast._

**January 2 2031, 11:17pm**  
_Day Log 22: on day 13 of the Kerberos mission, we were attacked in the middle of the night. The walls of the base were ripped open, and a creature the size of a polar bear with purplish fur ransacked our base. I fended it off as best as possible with the only knife larger than a pocket knife. Matt Holt was injured, a deep cut on the thigh, and Dr. Sam Holt was knocked unconscious. Before the creature left, it swiped at me, scratching me across the nose and knocking me unconscious._  
_According to Matt Holt, the creature didn’t run very far, and for the remainder of the night creatures similar to the one that attacked prowled the area._  
_I regained consciousness at daybreak on mission day 14, and Matt Holt and I were able to search for a more secure camp. However, the nearest mountain was a six day journey across the tundra. Fashioning a sled, we pulled Dr. Holt across the tundra, carrying essential supplies towards the mountain, afraid that the creatures would attack again in the night._  
_Dr. Holt regained consciousness by midmorning on mission day 15 and aided in carrying the supplies._  
_We have officially reached the mountain side, using a small alcove as our current base. We have been building walls of snow to provide protection from the wind and the creatures.  
The creatures have not been seen since the night of mission day 13. But their howls have been heard. We are afraid they have followed us to our newest encampment._  
_End, day log 22, Takashi Shirogane_

Fury bubbled in Keith’s blood.

The Garrison had claimed they hadn’t received contact from the Kerberos mission crew and attributed the mission fail to pilot error -- had pinned the disaster on Shiro’s shoulders. But Shiro had documented their contact, had documented their landing and successful setup of the base.

Pilot Error?

Fuck that.

**January 3 2031, 11:38am**  
_I thought I saw them again._

Keith’s breath caught in his throat. He didn’t want to read anymore, no more of Shiro’s quiet admissions.

Shiro was always steadfast. Enjoyed the obstacles the simulator threw at him. Enjoyed finding solutions and helping people solve problems.

He was never one to admit fear.

Except in the cover of night, whispered into the dry Garrison air, like a plea he hoped no one would hear.

But Keith had heard, had flicked the lights on and pushed Shiro to admit it -- to admit that it was stressful to be the person that people always turned to, admit that it hurt when Adam had given back the ring, admit that as much as he loved to fly, he wasn’t sure what his life would be beyond it. And Keith had relished in it, in the trust that Shiro had confided.

To see Shiro’s fears, his admissions, so blankly on his phone screen sent shivers down the length of Keith’s spine.

**January 3 2031, 11:51am**  
_The new base isn’t secure enough for an attack. And if that weren’t enough, we’re running low on food. We couldn’t carry everything when we left the last base, so we barely have anything._

**January 3 2031, 12:03pm**  
_I know it sounds crazy. But if I can kill one -- we could have food for a month._

**January 6 2031, 7:43pm**  
_Dr. Holt is assured that after two weeks of no contact, the Garrison will send out scouts for us. The ship was left in a visible place, and our last check in was from base camp. We left a visible trail to our new encampment, and we have flare guns._  
_So the Garrison should be here any day now._

**January 7 2031, 1:58am**  
_I have officially learned too much about Matthew Holt <(〇_ｏ)>_

**January 7 2031, 2:05am**  
_Sorry._  
_I know I shouldn’t joke, but I can barely sleep. I see them in every shadow, every whistle of wind. We don’t know what they are._  
_Matt said something about a genetically mutated polar bear, but polar bears don’t inhabit Antarctica. And I don’t think something like that could happen naturally. Nothing about this is natural._  
_Somehow it’s easier to focus on the smaller things, the stories Matt tells about how he accidentally clogged the bathroom at the Garrison and blamed it on another cadet. Or how Katie hacked into the Garrison network at 13 because Dr. Holt wouldn’t answer her mom’s calls._  
_Dr. Holt told me to call him Sam, and I wonder why that feels weird -- even now._  
_Maybe I’m still determined to act like nothing has changed._  
_And I keep talking about you. I think I should be embarrassed at how obvious my feelings are to Dr. Holt and Matt, but sitting in this frozen tundra with beasts prowling the night, I don’t think I mind. You’re my little bit of fire, my ray of sunshine through all of this._

**January 7 2031, 11:40am**  
_We’re running out of food Keith, but Dr. Holt says that since it’s summer in the arctic we have options when our rations run out._  
_Like hunting penguins or fishing or grass that seems to be miles away._

**January 7 2031, 11:49am**  
_I’m scared, Keith._

**January 7 2031, 11:57am**  
_Remember that day when we borrowed speeders from the Garrison (and by borrowed, I mean you threatened to steal one if I didn’t rent one out for you. have you always been a little brat? haha) And we drove out into the desert. Just kept driving until the sun colored the horizon a blood red._  
_When we finally stopped, you talked to me for the first time._  
_Not the first time we’d ever talked, but the first time we talked about anything significant._  
_You kept me at such a distance, kept everyone five feet away from you. But you talked to me about your dad, about how you would ride on the back of his motorcycle, how this felt like freedom._  
_I didn’t know I loved you then_

**January 7 2031, 11:58am**  
_I’m afraid I’ll never see you again_

**January 8 2031, 7:43pm**  
_We think the creatures are nocturnal._

_There’s almost always daylight here, except for a few hours where it’s barely twilight. Maybe that’s why they haven’t been seeking us out past the base. We saw their tracks in the distance, but we didn’t see another other trace of them._  
_Matt and I went out to gather some food, but hunting penguins is more difficult than just the moral dilemma I’m struggling with. But our rations are running out._  
_I feel like a true caveman, hunting and gathering and building our own shelter. Maybe I’ll teach the survival training class at the Garrison when we get back._

**January 8 2031, 7:48pm**  
_We’re expecting the Garrison scouts any day_  
_I wonder if these messages will send automatically if I get service. Can I smash my phone on the ground first when all my adrenaline fades and the embarrassment of admitting my feelings lingers?_

**January 8 2031, 7:49pm**  
_Not that I don’t want to contact you or anything._  
_My dramatic ‘i love you’ feels a little lame if I get rescued so easily haha_

**January 8 2031, 7:51pm**  
_But I should’ve said something years ago, so maybe it’s for the best if all of these are sent. Maybe I can stop pretending that I didn’t love you the first time I saw you in the simulator._  
_Remember your 21st birthday? Junior year, when all of us destroyed Adam’s room?  
Well, the one who accidentally broke his towel rack and toilet paper holder and the handle to his shower was me._

Keith’s laugh was a watery one. His vision blurred as he read Shiro’s words, felt his visceral panic at the monster that hunted them less than nine months ago.

But the party, the memory of his birthday a little over a year ago, left a spot of warmth burning in his chest. It was his last birthday with Shiro.

He wasn’t sure where the idea came from, whether it was Shiro or Adam or the mumbled ramblings of every teacher’s impression of him. But Keith had been so determined to prove them wrong that he didn’t realize how fun it would be to prove them right. Drinking in Adam’s room, the buzz in his blood, and the way his eyes lingered on Shiro, especially when he and Adam kissed -- longing to feel the weight of Shiro’s lips against him instead.

It was like a bad birthday wish, when Shiro brushed back his hair, only to help him throw up in the toilet.

He’d woken up curled beneath Adam’s sink only to see the destruction of his bathroom, barely remembering anything after cradling the porcelain throne. When Adam had walked in, his face had turned crimson and his lips just parted like he was attempting to say something. Keith had been permanently banned from Adam’s room -- but he suspected it was more to do with the way Adam had caught his eyes on Shiro so many times that night, so many obvious times.

The ice cream Shiro had bought him later that day made a lot more sense.

Keith’s chest warmed at the memory, burned through the static of his fingers. But when he glanced back at the unread messages on his phone, dread settled into the empty space the heat had left.

**January 8 2031, 7:52pm**  
_Damn, that was one hell of a confession off my chest haha_  
_Hopefully that’ll make you laugh when you get all of these._

**January 8 2031, 7:52pm**  
_*if you get all these_

**January 9 2031, 12:34pm**  
_Day log 29: Turns out you need to boil arctic grass before eating it unless you want to have explosive diarrhea. (×_×)_  
_On the bright side, at least we’re marking our territory, right?_

**January 9 2031, 12:46pm**  
_Sorry, that was Matt’s joke._  
_Is his humor rubbing off on me?_  
_Oh my god, save me haha_

**January 10 2031, 8:11am**  
_Dr. Holt calculated that today is the earliest we should see the Garrison scouts. So hopefully we’ll see them within the next week._  
_There’s been no sign of the creatures since we’ve moved camp._  
_Other than the footprints and the distant howls._  
_I don’t want to be hopeful, but it’s hard not to be, when it’s just you, your best friend, and his father in an arctic wasteland_

**January 11 2031, 11:58am**  
_The worst part of playing candy crush without service is that no one can send you lives. I’m stuck on this one level, and each time I fail, I’m ready to throw my phone into the ocean -- not that we’re close to the ocean anyway. (╥﹏╥)_

**January 17 2031, 9:33pm**  
_I didn’t message this last week, because I was trying to stay hopeful that a scout would come get us. But it’s been a week, and Dr. Holt and Matt haven’t lost hope. I don’t think they know the Garrison like we do._

Oh, did Keith know them now.

Reputation, duty, and subservience: the unofficial motto of the Garrison.

You don’t embarrass the Garrison. You don’t embarrass yourself while representing the Garrison. You do nothing to endanger the good reputation of the Garrison. When the Garrison says you’re dead to save face, you stay dead.

You serve. You obey. That is the Garrison way.

But Keith was prouder to follow in Shiro’s footsteps. To toe the line. To test the waters. To punch Iverson in the face when he’d spit, “Pilot Error,” in Keith’s face.

He was a little less proud when they’d boxed up his stuff and kicked him out without so much as another word. There was little Shiro’s influence could do to save him then.

**January 17 2031, 9:37pm**  
_But it’s still summer._  
_If we can get back to the base and actually send a message, we could get help. I’m worried that if we keep waiting for help to come, we’ll be forced into a corner. We’re already almost completely relying on the boiled arctic grass. Our rations are for emergencies, but I don’t know._  
_I’m trying not to be pessimistic, maybe I’m just being a realist_  
_I don’t think it’s gonna be that easy_

**January 17 2031, 9:44pm**  
_If this goes on any longer, we’re going to need to reclaim the base. The creatures slashed through the walls like they were nothing, but it’s possible to get the heaters working._  
_Otherwise we won’t stand a chance in the upcoming winter. No matter how we try to upgrade this snow hut._  
_We wouldn’t last through negative 20, much less negative 50._

**January 18 2031, 10:25am**  
_The scouts aren’t coming._  
_Matt and Sam believe they are, but we haven’t seen any sign of them. They should’ve been here a week ago, and I can’t continue to hold out hope. We need a solution._

Keith gritted his teeth.

He already knew the scouts weren’t coming. By January 7th, the Kerberos team had already been declared dead with “Pilot Error” splattered across every news outlet.

**January 19 2031, 10:43pm**  
_Officially beat that Candy Crush level I was stuck on a few days ago! (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ_  
_And I’ve actually been reading that book series you downloaded on my phone years ago. Been reading out loud to the Holts too. Sorry I didn’t read it back then, but I guess it’s good because I have the time now._

**January 19 2031, 11:04pm**  
_There’s only so much you can do sitting on a frozen tundra. We’ve been gathering some of this arctic grass, and I’m honestly sick of eating it. Sam knows the name, but I can’t remember it and he’s sleeping now. I don’t want to wake him._  
_I think our biggest issue is fuel._  
_We have to boil water to drink. We have to boil the grass to eat. We have to burn something for heat. And whatever fuel we have left is dwindling._  
_But Sam and Matt and so fixated on the Garrison, they aren’t willing to think beyond our rescue. We need to get back to the base or to the ship. There’s enough fuel there to keep us warm through the winter, and if we reclaimed base camp, then we’d be set._  
_Or if we skinned enough of the creatures we could keep warm and eat hearty even without the fuel._

**January 20 2031, 3:02am**  
_I miss the sound of your voice_  
_I wish we were sitting on the couch in my Garrison apartment, watching some dumb movie that we both struggle to stay awake through. Your commentary has always been so funny that I wanted to stay up just to see your smile or hear your soft laughter._  
_I think I could finally sleep then._  
_Now, I only hear the winds and the distant howls of the creatures._  
_I swear they’re getting closer._

**January 20 2031, 3:05am**  
_Do you miss me?_  
_I wonder when the Garrison will declare us dead._  
_We’ve been radio silent for twenty-seven days. Almost a month._  
_We were supposed to be flying back by now._  
_Mission Day 45: arrive home._  
_Well it’s mission day 40, and home is nowhere in sight._

**January 20 2031, 3:10am**  
_I can see Matt and Sam slowly giving up hope on the Garrison._  
_I don’t want to say I told you so._  
_So I’ll only say it to you._

**January 20 2031, 3:11am**  
_I told you so._

**January 21 2031, 2:01am**  
_I feel like I always message you in the middle of the night._  
_Maybe it’s the never ending daylight. Sometimes the sky darkens in a mimicry of Twilight. If _we live long enough to see May, we may never see daylight again.__

**January 22 2031, 5:00pm**  
_We’ve run out of fuel._

**January 22 2031, 5:03pm**  
_I think I’m going to do something stupid, Keith._  
_God, I really hope these somehow reach you, or that you already know how much I love you._  
_I’m fighting to get back to you, baby._

Keith’s heart leapt into his throat, strangling him like the tie had earlier that day, like the grief, the regrets, and the pain had since the news of the Kerberos mission failure.

Shiro had called him baby.

Shiro loved him.

And Shiro took six weeks to send another message.

**March 4 2031, 4:35am**  
_say 83_  
_Da yy 83_  
_Day 83_  
_Sorry. It s hard yo tyype with my hamd_  
_Left hand._  
_Fucj this._

**March 5 2031, 7:24pm**  
_Hi Keith. This is Matt. (I wanted to write Dear Diary, but Shiro’s reading over my shoulder aaaand now he just smacked me upside the head.)_  
_I’m typing for Shiro, maybe for the Garrison, maybe for all of us. It feels good to be optimistic about one thing. In this mission. That maybe somehow Pidge or my mom might read this and know what happened._  
_Okay, Shiro smacked me again, so I’m just going to type for him now so I don’t get in any more trouble._

**March 5 2031, 7:38pm**  
_Keith, I don’t know how to tell you this story, how to wrap my head around what happened on day 48. Part of me wants to say it was stupid. The other part of me knew it was necessary._  
_We’re back in the base._  
_Yeah, you’re right, baby. We fucking took it back from those monsters._  
_But they took something too._  
_The biggest one, the one we think attacked our base that first night, was living within the camp. We thought we had slipped in, coming during the brightest part of the day when we hadn’t seen them before. But it was sleeping in the control center, and before we could retreat, it woke up and attacked._  
_I only had that hunting knife, no bigger than my forearm. And this thing had claws and razor sharp teeth and a single red eye that seemed to follow me around no matter how I tried to dodge. I’m not surprised at how easily it shredded through the sides of base camp._  
_I’m also not surprised at how easily it tore my right arm off._

Keith recoiled, dropping his phone to the floor in shock. His body tilted on an axis. Spinning and spinning. Bile rose in his throat. He jumped to his feet and ran for the door to his shack.

Each heated gust of wind felt like the bitter chill of the arctic on Keith’s skin. He collapsed off to the side, digging his fingers into the warm sand as he vomited. His back curled and his stomach ached with each dry heave. Tears stung at his eyes, but there was nothing to see other than the image of Shiro fighting some terrifying monster and losing his arm in the battle.

Was there a chance that even if these messages meant salvation that Shiro wasn’t saved? Did he die on that frozen tundra because the Garrison abandoned him?

With a growl of rage, Keith wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. He kicked sand over the small puddle of throw up and marched back inside.

He picked up his phone and gritted his teeth as he finished reading the message.

**March 5 2031, 7:38pm**  
_But I killed it. Sunk the knife deep into its eye socket before I stabbed it through the heart.  
It was Matt that suggested using the blood to ward off any of the other beasts. It now drenches the ground around the base. Black like tar._  
_I wish we had the fuel to burn my arm, but for now, it’s buried just outside of base camp. Marked with a shard of metal from the walls._  
_We have fuel and food, and Matt and Sam have been patching up the walls. We’re hopeful in getting the communications working again. We’ll make sure the Garrison knows were here, and we’ll make sure they come for us._

**March 5 2031, 11:46pm**  
_keith. its shiro._  
_im typing v slowly so I dont have 2 wake Matt 2 type. dont know if i want him 2 c this._  
_i almost died. matt edited my message earlier today 2 make it sound cooler, but it wasnt cool. it was scary_  
_sam said i was out 4 days. 5 mayb 6?_  
_we have no more bandages or meds_  
_it hurts_  
_i dont want 2 die. i want to come home 2 u._  
_please let me come home_

A sob caught in Keith’s chest.

Shiro, the strong resilient Shiro was pleading with him. And Keith would do anything -- pluck the stars from the sky and tear the galaxy apart -- to give Shiro what he asked for. To bring him home.

**March 10 2031, 10:23am**  
_i feel useless_  
_im bedridden &sick_  
_evryday i watch matt & sam fix holes in the walls or work on the comms or fuel line_  
_but i just sit here._  
_wish i could help_

**March 10 2031, 11:57pm**  
_sometimes i feel it_  
_i reach with my right hand_  
_but its not there_  
_it hurts_  
_it hurts so much worse than just the wound_  
_it feels like itll never heal_

**March 15 2031, 9:08am**  
_Hi Keith, it’s Matt again. Shiro’s really not doing great, and it was obvious before he gave me his phone. He said he didn’t know what to say to you anymore, so I should be detailing everything I’m doing. “Something Keith will enjoy hearing about,” he said._  
_Well, I honestly think that’s bullshit._  
_Not everyone is as blind as Shiro, you know._  
_I think you want exactly what my dad and I want. I’m just not sure how to get Shiro where he needs to be. I don’t know how to get us off this frozen wasteland so he can get help. So we all can get help._  
_Now I just need to get us there before winter._

**March 15 2031, 3:00pm**  
_Shiro says that he really likes purple monster stew._  
_My dad’s been making it. Trying to prolong our food source -- it’s nice having a refrigerator everywhere! -- as long as we can. If Shiro was up to snuff, I’m sure we’d send him out for some more of the Antarctic grass that grows towards the coast. But it’s days and days away, and right now our first priority is to fix the communications and the base._  
_So we’ll have stew until the grass runs out. And then we’ll have less good stew. And then we’ll be home and eating like kings, because that’s what heroes do right? (⁀ᗢ⁀)_  
_You’ll have to throw us a big party with Pidge when we come back! °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°_  
_I don’t know if you’ve met Pidge yet, but she’s the best friend and worst little sister anyone could ask for. There was one time she even hacked the Garrison to contact my dad over the emergency loud speakers because he wasn’t answering my Mom’s calls._  
_So yeah, she’s kind of a brat, but she’s our brat._  
_But I’m sure Shiro already told you about all that._  
_I hope they’re doing okay._  
_I know Shiro thinks I’m dumb for being hopeful, but I think we all know that by now it’s a brave face. Because if I think about being declared missing or dead would destroy my mom and sister._  
_Right now I just have to think about getting back to them._

**March 15 2031, 6:05pm**  
_Shiro snores with his mouth open. Drooling._  
_Here’s a picture. (･ω <)☆_  
_ shirosleeping.jpg _

Keith couldn’t fight the sob that tore from his chest at the sight of Shiro. He was curled into a corner surrounded by blankets and a strange purple fur. His head was tipped back and a string of drool dripped from the corner of his lips.

But the person in the photograph looked so different from Shiro. Thinner. With an unusual grey tone to his skin. A jagged scar bisected his nose, pink and raised, healed from the first night the beast attacked. The white shock of hair at the front of his head was a surprise, so stark against the usual inky black strands. It was longer too, tickling the tops of Shiro’s ears and dipping into his closed eyes.

It was the missing arm that really threw Keith. Because he could picture it, imagine it from Matt’s descriptive words. But seeing it for the first time was another phenomenon altogether.

It was bandaged. Dirty and brown like Matt and Sam had boiled the used bandages in order to use them again. No longer pristine and white, and it was still stained with blood. He’d lost it just above the elbow, and Keith felt his weight shift, like he was suddenly without an arm.

But it was proof. Undeniable proof. Time stamped.

Evidence that Shiro was alive six months ago.

Evidence that the Garrison lied.

**March 15 2031, 6:34pm**  
_Shiro threatened to take away my phone privileges_  
_But the thing is, Keith -- not that I don’t like messaging you -- Shiro needs you a little more than I do right now. He just needs to want it._  
_So I’m going to make him regret giving me his phone. I’ll make him want to steal you back. I’ll make him better. (￣^￣)ゞ_

__

A series of texts and pictures followed, and in each one, there was a little more life in Shiro’s eyes, a flush to his cheeks, and a determined set to his features.

Keith thrived through each of the glimpses into Shiro’s time, into evidence that the funeral wasn’t just a sham, but a lie.

Because Shiro was alive!

**March 16 2031, 12:57pm**  
_Shiro eating his favorite stew! \\(^ヮ^)/_  
_ shiroeatingwithhismouthopen.jpg _

**March 16 2031, 10:22am**  
_Shiro working out as best he can. Gotta keep those biceps cut or else his man back home might not want him. (¬‿¬ )_  
_ shirobicepcurlwithbrokenpole.jpg _  
_(yes, I’ve noticed how you drool at the gym Keith. You aren’t subtle.)_

**March 16 2031, 2:08pm**  
_Shiro changing_  
_You’re welcome (^ω~)_  
_ shiroshirtless.jpg _

**March 16 2031, 7:19pm**  
_Playing poker with dad_  
_ shirospokerfaceistheworst.jpg _  
_If you see my mom, please tell her I thank her everyday for the deck of cards she shoved in my suitcase without the Garrison’s permission. She’s my hero._

**March 17 2031, 6:43am**  
_What a precious little baby! (´ ε ` )♡_  
_ shirosleeping_2.jpg _

**March 17 2031, 12:02pm**  
_Shiro yawning lol_  
_ shiroyawning.jpg _

**March 17 2031, 12:05pm**  
_Oops. Shiro finally asked to see what I’ve been messaging you all day. He looks suspicious. I think this might be my last message for a while!_  
_Bye Keith!! (oT-T)尸_

**March 17 2031, 12:10pm**  
_I dont even know what 2 say_  
_Im just going to leave them because I think they might make you laugh. right now thinking about that makes me smile 4 the first time in months_

**March 18 2031, 1:15am**  
_I finished the book series u downloaded 4 me. it was good._  
_makes me wonder if there are more in the series. kinda ends on a cliffhanger._  
_sorry it took me so long to read it._  
_I wonder if ill ever find out what happens_

**March 18 2031, 1:32am**  
_I nevr thuoght it would b like this. never thought I would have so many regrets. But all I can think about these days is what I wished Id done b4 I left._  
_Wished I kissed you_  
_Wished I hugged my grandpa goodbye_  
_Wished I skydived or scubadived or something every1 always talks about doing_  
_Wished Id done a lot of things_  
_Wish I could see you 1 last time_

**March 19 2031, 1:45pm**  
_I nvr told u when I knew I was in love with you did I?_  
_want matt to type this so its good_  
_but its embarrassing_

**Matt 19 2031, 2:13pm**  
_Adam and I had just broken up. I told you it was because of the Kerberos mission, but it was a lot of things -- a lot of moments where we just didn’t mesh, but we’d been together for so long that I almost forgot what it was like to be without him. I thought I would fall apart without him beside me._  
_I think I kind of did._  
_But a year before the launch, we broke up. He said it was because of the mission, but I knew that wasn’t it. I knew he had been pulling away from me even before I was offered the opportunity to pilot the Kerberos._  
_So I kept pushing, and he finally snapped and said that he knew I loved someone else.  
I swear to god that I almost laughed._  
_But he was serious._  
_So I asked who it was that I was supposed to love. And he said you, barely 20 and a breath of fresh air in the stiffness of the Garrison. I was your mentor, but sometimes I felt like it was you that pushed me to do more -- be more than I ever expected to be. Than Adam ever expected me to be._  
_But I was twenty four and didn’t know how I could love someone like you, like a cannon on the brink of firing, like holding flames in my hand and just waiting to get burnt. You were so bright and young. And I didn’t want to take your future away._  
_So I’d denied it all. Denied the feelings that had blossomed, because you deserve someone better, someone that didn’t love you in secret, someone that didn’t love you from the shadow of another relationship._  
_Because even as I denied what Adam had told me, somewhere in my heart I knew he was right._  
_But I kept denying it._  
_Until the day I knew I was in love._  
_You punched James Griffin in the face, and you both marched to Iverson’s office. And even with a black eye, it was one of the first times I’d seen you smile. Victory looks good on you, baby. Twenty-one years old and you still couldn’t fight down that anger._  
_Later when you said, “yeah, yeah i know. Patience yields focus.” I could only focus on your split lip and what it might be like to taste it._  
_I reprimanded you, said that I knew you could act better, but god, I wanted to sweep you up in a hug and tell you that Griffin deserved a good punch to the face. That maybe he would finally stop saying shit about you, about how beautiful and free and wild you are._  
_Like my perfect little flame._

**March 19 2031, 2:15pm**  
_That was probably cheesy and melodramatic, but I could honestly wax poetic about you all day, Keith._  
_The selfish part of me wishes you were here. Wishes that I pushed to get you on this mission, something about experience or mentorship. But the other part of me is grateful, because I know you’re safe._

Keith clutched at his chest as if that might stop the wheezes of air that pulled through his lungs, the gasps that felt more like drowning than breathing, the whirlwind that knocked the wind out of him. He was on cloud nine and sinking rapidly, ready to crash to the ground with the full force of the news that Shiro was gone.

That these messages were a sort of last right, last wish.

Because something this magical couldn’t be happening to him.

**March 21 2031, 1:20am**  
_its always a muggy darkness now_  
_winter is beginning to set into the tundra & weve heard nothing from the garrison_  
_Matt keeps calling but we dont know if its the machine or if the garrison hears but pretends not to_

**March 21 2031, 1:22am**  
_on the bright side_  
_Im getting better at using my left hand for things_  
_candy crush is still hard, but at least I still have levels left to play_

**March 23 2031, 8:16am**  
_we heard them last night_  
_but rather than howls it was low growls_  
_almost like they were talking to each other_  
_idk Keith. idk._

**March 25 2031, 6:10pm**  
_We r running out of food._  
_the beast that took my arm is almost gone and we havent seen any others since the day we took the base camp back._  
_I dont think I could kill another. not in this state._  
_the grasslands r too far._  
_our rations r gone._  
_weve come so far, but I feel like were going 2 die here_

**March 25 2031, 11:03pm**  
_I wish I could see u 1 last time_  
_I have old pics on this phone but they dont do u justice, baby_

**March 25 2031, 11:06pm**  
_is it alright to call u baby?_  
_I feel like u might like it if u let me_  
_would u blush every time I say it?_  
_or would u like something different?_  
_honey?_  
_sweetheart?_  
_darling?_  
_my love?_  
_my flame?_  
_my stars?_

**March 25 2031, 11:07pm**  
_I would call u anything as long as you would have me_

Keith denied how hot his face burned at the thought of hearing Shiro say those words to him, hushed voice and eyes lidded, rather than just read them over a text message. But he couldn’t deny how his heart was racing, how his tongue had dried, or how desperately he wanted to call out to Shiro.

He would have Shiro for as long as possible. For eternity. Until stars collided and the universe ruptured.

But his bliss at Shiro’s love letters faded at the sight of the next message.

**March 28 2031, 7:30am**  
_weve run out of food_

**March 28 2031, 7:33am**  
_the garrison hasnt answered_  
_2 days ago on mission day 105 MAtt Holt left base camp 2 gather more of that diaherrra grass, but we calculkated that the journeyy would take at least 7 days round trip._  
_but sam and i have fuel_  
_we can make water_  
_and by god if we have to eat my severed arm to survive we will_

Keith gagged at the thought, at the possibility that Shiro would have to sacrifice a body part he already lost to keep on surviving.

**March 30 2031, 6:59am**  
_good &bad news_  
_bad news is that Matt radioed in -- yeah they built working radios out of the scraps here, but the garrison supposedly still can’t hear us -- he’s been delayed and wont be getting in for seven more days_  
_good news is that we have more food_

**March 30 2031, 7:01am**  
_this is where it gets weird_

**March 30 2031, 7:05am**  
_A blood penguin carcass was left at the front door of the base with a trail of tracks leading to and from it_  
_the same kind of tracks like that the purple monster had_  
_we’re unsure if this is a truce or a treaty thing_  
_do animals do that?_  
_are they really animals?_

**March 30 2031, 7:44am**  
_best news: penguin stew is better than purple monster stew as Matt called it_

Keith breathed a sigh of relief. Each message was another day that Shiro lived. And Keith prayed at all 206 of them led up to today, to Shiro’s valiant return.

**April 1 2031, 7:32am**  
_it wasnt a 1 time thing_  
_another penguin_  
_remember when I said I had a moral dilemma over eating penguins because they were so cute_  
_I take that back_  
_penguin is my new favorite food_

**April 1 2031, 11:26pm**  
_Sam and I can hear them prowling around camp_  
_theyre growling again & I swear it sounds like theyre talking with each other_

**April 2 2031, 2:55pm**  
_No one tells you how boring it is to just sit around on a frozen tundra is_

**April 2 2031, 6:10pm**  
_I beat candy crush btw ٩(◕‿◕｡)۶_

**April 2 2031, 6:11pm**  
_And now I feel crushed_  
_What am I supposed to do now?_

**April 3 2031, 8:03am**  
_Another penguin was delivered this morning. Bloodied and set right before our door. I swear I caught a glimpse of the creature retreating._

**April 3 2031, 7:20pm**  
_I’m getting better with my left hand now as you can hopefully tell. These texts are way more legible._  
_I also don’t reach for things with my right hand as often, and the absence of it doesn’t hurt as much_  
_I’ll take that as some sort of victory_

**April 3 2031, 7:28pm**  
_Sometimes I like to imagine my hand is like a ghost, and that it’s with my heart right now.  
_With you, my flame.__

**April 4 2031, 3:51pm**  
_It’s a constant state of twilight now._  
_Sam said by mid-may it’ll be pitch black outside_  
_Which means a couple things_  
_1) I won’t be able to charge my phone with the solar powercell anymore. It is possible to use the fuel at base camp, but we’re already going to be battling against negative 50 degrees outside. We’re hoping to gather the rest of the fuel from the ship once Matt returns. But it means I won’t be able to write as much. I don’t know why that feels like leaving you all over again._  
_2) The creatures will be more active. They have been ever since it started being a permanent twilight._  
_3) We have no reliable food source. We either need to mate our own penguins or kill another beast, but I’m afraid that would only prove dangerous. We killed the first to take back out camp. But to attack them further, especially while they’re providing food for us, seems like a declaration of war. A war we cannot win._

**April 4 2031, 4:00pm**  
_It’s even darker now._  
_Sam keeps mumbling about polar madness._  
_We were never supposed to be here for this long._

**April 5 2031, 11:36am**  
_Mission Day 116, Matt Holt returns with a bountiful harvest of drived, brown grass._  
_With the oncoming winter, we hadn’t hoped for much, but we hoped for more than this._

**April 6 2031, 8:16am**  
_It was waiting for us_  
_This morning, it had the penguin it its mouth and it waited just steps away from the door._  
_It nodded its head at us and dropped the penguin at its feet and took off into the tundra._  
_I somehow managed to capture a photo, and the more I look at it the less it looks like a polar bear and the more it looks canine -- some mutated alien canine._  
_ purplemonster.jpg _

Keith gasped, enlarging the picture and pulling the phone closer to his face. It looked like a bad photoshop job or poor costuming, because something like this could never exist.

It was larger than a bear, sitting on its haunches like a dog. Its furry tail was a blur in the photo as if it had been waving while the picture was taken. The back legs were thin, no thicker than a muscled human thigh which was strange next to the furry bulk of the torso. Even in the dim twilight of the south pole, there was a purple sheen to the pelt, almost as vibrant as the yellow, pupil-less eyes. The penguin was limp in its snout, dripping blood onto the stained ice below.

If Keith hadn’t known that one of those _things_ tore off Shiro’s arm, he might think it was cute in an ugly way.

But disgust only roiled in his stomach.

**April 6 2031, 8:20am**  
_Maybe it’s the polar madness Sam talked about_  
_but it feels like the creature wants to communicate, and I want to try._

**April 7 2031, 8:02am**  
_It was waiting for us again, but when I tried to take a step toward it, it jumped back. It’s ears were raised, and I swore I saw a yellow tag flash between the fur on its ears. But before I could even try to approach it, the creature dropped the penguin and disappeared._

**April 7 2031, 8:03am**  
_Matt saw the tag too._

**April 7 2031, 9:22am**  
_Do you even know what this base was used for?_  
_All I knew about the mission was that this camp was decommissioned years ago after a snowstorm hit and trapped the researchers for months while damaging the base itself._  
_It looked strangely unharmed when we arrived. We even talked about it. Like how expensive it must have been to fly in all of the supplies to repair it years ago._

**April 7 2031, 5:57pm**  
_Sam told us about an old Garrison rumor, a conspiracy he’d considered it._  
_Until now._  
_There were whispers that the Garrison had actually made contact back in the 80s. That something came down after hearing all of our calls and seeing all of our space missions in the 60s and 70s._  
_The rumors were that we’ve still kept in contact or that we took the aliens to Area 51 to examine -- you know, the classic Garrison scary stories and bullshit._

**April 7 2031, 5:58pm**  
_But what if they took them here?_

**April 7 2031, 6:03pm**  
_I don’t just sound crazy. I feel crazy._  
_Maybe it’s the polar madness lol_

**April 8 2031, 8:34am**  
_Another penguin, but the creature ran away before we could get close._  
_Matt joked that it was our Garrison uniforms._

**April 8 2031, 10:05pm**  
_How tasteless is it to wear the fur of their dead companion to get close to them?_

**April 9 2031, 8:45am**  
_I swear to god, the creature laughed at me. Just like a little huff through the nose._  
_Maybe it was because I put on the purple fur rather than my Garrison uniform and attempted to crawl towards it._  
_But it dropped the penguin and left._

**April 13 2031, 9:31am**  
_Four more days all the same. I wish I had more things to report, but we’ve been complacent here. I think Matt and Sam are thinking about fixing up parts of the lab so they can examine samples. It’s not like there’s anything else to do._  
_We’ve forgotten the majority of the rules for card games, so we’ve been making them up or playing go fish for hours._

**April 13 2031, 1:18pm**  
_I’ve been trying to keep myself active. Push ups and jumping jacks and katas. It’s hard to get used to doing all this without another arm to balance myself._

**April 13 2031, 1:23pm**  
_I’ve been getting back into meditation. It’s really calming to just do a kata, go through the familiar motions and forms and allow my mind to rest._  
_I think I’ve been so fixated on a solution on how we get off this frozen island that I haven’t breathed in months. I still don’t think I’ve dealt with the loss of my arm. Sure I’ve coped with it, but I haven’t dealt with it._

**April 13 2031, 11:23pm**  
_Sometimes I wonder how you’ll react to my arm_

**April 13 2031, 11:26pm**  
_Part of me knows that you’ll just be happy to have me back. It’s the same part of me that knows that you’ll accept me no matter how I look._  
_But sometimes as I’m trying to sleep -- like nightmares of my own conscious imaginations -- I can imagine how you’ll recoil, how you wouldn’t dare let me hold you with how broken I am now._

**April 13 2031, 11:49pm**  
_Even though I’ve only lost an arm, I feel like half a man._

**April 14 2031, 10:37am**  
_No luck on the creature again today. But this time they delivered a mouthful of fish which was a fantastic change in diet._  
_I think Matt cried, but he tried to hide it behind his growing hair. I should send you a picture of them, so that they’ll know how to feels to be documented when we all look like this._

**April 14 2031, 10:41am**  
_ fishbreakfast_holts.jpg _

A laugh huffed through his nose, a quiet delicate thing in the drafty air of his shack.

In the picture, Sam and Matt Holt were hunched over a small bunsen burner like fire, where a fish laid gutted and steaming on a metal grate. Matt’s hair had grown out, tickling his shoulders and hiding his face. A faint scar ran down his cheek as if it stemmed from the large crack in his glasses.

Sam looked older than his years with salt and pepper hair and deep lines in his withered face. But he had glanced up just before the picture. So, unlike Matt who had a mouthful of fish and oil smeared on his chin, Sam smiled at the camera with a fragile kind of hope that Keith clung to.

**April 14 2031, 2:38pm**  
_Matt showed me schematics of a bionic prosthetic, something so cutting edge I’ll be able to feel and move my arm with just a thought. I think it’s a wild idea._

**April 13 2031, 2:44pm**  
_I wonder how strange it would feel._  
_Would it be like riding a bike? Some instinct that I never lost?_  
_Or would it be like learning to walk again? A struggle that people have to work and train through?_

**April 13 2031, 2:45pm**  
_Part of me hopes it’s easy_

**April 13 2031, 2:47pm**  
_The other part of me doesn’t dare to hope that we’ll even make it off of this tundra._

**April 14 2031, 2:55pm**  
_But supposedly Sam thinks Matt’s design is genius and that he’s revolutionizing science._  
_It’ll be a groundbreaking discovery if it works._  
_If we get back._

**April 16 2031, 5:20pm**  
_They’re studying ice again, and I’m done doing push ups, and all I want to do is be able to call you._  
_I can only imagine what the Garrison is saying, what they probably have said already._  
_I hope that you’re alright. I hope that you know that I’m thinking of you, my stars, always._  
_And when we finally get back, we’ll tear the Garrison apart. Yearly funding? Nah, that’ll be my civil settlement fee. We’ll be rich, baby, and we’ll travel the world together. I’ll buy us a plane and we can pilot ourselves around the world._

**April 16 2031, 5:33pm**  
_Is that dreaming too small?_  
_We can travel to the stars, explore the universe! I’d conquer every planet and name it after the most beautiful thing on Earth._  
_Keith._  
_Keith 1._  
_Keith 2._  
_Keith 3._  
_You get the jist._

**April 16 2031, 5:38pm**  
_I’d love to visit Japan though._  
_My grandpa always talked about the trip we went on when I was six. How we went to Mount Fuji and my family grave and the house where my mother was born._  
_Would it be too much to say that I would love to go on a honeymoon with you there?_  
_Not just a trip, but a honeymoon._

Keith swore his heart leapt into his throat, like helium had just filled his lungs and he was dangerously close to floating away or passing out.

Honeymoon?

In just a few minutes, Keith had gone from realizing Shiro was alive, learning Shiro loved him, to hearing Shiro wanted to marry him.

He squeezed his hands around his phone until his fingers ached.

When he first met Shiro as a recruiter for the Garrison, traveling between high schools in a pressed uniform and wide smile, Keith had scoffed at the sight of him. Sure he was gorgeous, but he was from the military. The same kind of pompous teachers that had berated and expected Keith to be a delinquent.

But Shiro had smiled so encouragingly when Keith had gotten past level one of the simulator. The heat of the Arizona sun was dimmed in the air conditioned trailer they brought the simulator in. They were gathered in the parking lot, and even against the scorching black top, Shiro looked pristine. Glistening smile and smoothed-back, inky hair.

“Congratulations, we need someone with those kinds of instincts at the Garrison. I think you’d fit right in there.” Shiro clapped his shoulder, but Keith’s teacher pushed James Griffin forward with a pinched smile as her eyes darted to Keith.

And Keith wanted to prove Shiro right, wanted to show him that he could be the top student, the top scorer, the same kind of prodigy he was.

But when his teacher started talking with the weighted whisper in her voice about Keith’s past, he almost couldn’t help but play right into her games. Be the boy she’d described. The delinquent from the foster family down the road. The boy who never did his homework and probably cheated on all the tests to get his kind of grades.

So without thought, he’d slipped Shiro’s keys from his pocket and driven his car off like it was a spaceship taking to the sky -- because he wanted to be anywhere but here.

But of course they caught him.

And when Shiro smiled down at him without the kind of weight all of Keith’s teacher’s had, with the same kind of hope he’d had before Keith had stolen his car -- well, Keith was 18, and that was the day he first fell in love.

He was convinced it was some childhood crush, that Shiro couldn’t hold up to all of his expectations.

But he did.

Keith just never thought Shiro would like him back. Because Keith was nothing like Adam. Where Adam was supportive and steadfast, Keith was burning desire and spontaneity. And Shiro had wanted Adam.

So Keith had never let himself hope beyond his wildest fantasies. And now, Keith’s chin trembled with the rollercoaster of emotions that played his heart like a fiddle.

**April 16 2031, 5:39pm**  
_Wait! That wasn’t a proposal!! I promise I’ll make it something more romantic_

Keith buried his chin into his chest, because even in the midst of today, his wildest dreams were coming to fruition.

All that was left was for Shiro to return to him.

**April 16 2031, 5:47pm**  
_It’ll be something like this:_  
_We’ll be landing the plane -- no, you’ll be landing the plane, and I’ll be your co-pilot and get to watch you smile as we land in, uh, Hawaii! And we’ll get to go scuba diving while we’re there and snorkeling and see lava and just lay on the beach and enjoy the heat and the sun._  
_And at the end of an amazing day, we’ll have dinner somewhere quiet and by the water. I’ll get down on one knee and I’ll tell you how I’ve always loved you, how you’ve become everything to me, and how I would give up anything in the world to make you happy._  
_And hopefully you’d say yes, and then we’d jetset off to Japan and elope and travel around for our honeymoon._  
_It would be magical ♡_

**April 16 2031, 5:50pm**  
_Wow that was embarrassing._  
_Sorry, I guess I have too much time to think these days._

Keith pressed trembling fingers to his lips as if that would hold in the broken sob.

He would love that. He would love it if Shiro came home at all, and to hear something like this, something so beyond his wildest imaginations, made Keith’s heart flutter in his chest. To hear Shiro’s plans, to be involved in Shiro’s future as more than a friend.

Keith wanted to pinch himself to be assured this wasn’t some fever dream. That he hadn’t collapsed in the bathroom at the reception from too much stolen champagne -- the bottle sitting on his coffee table and warming in the midday heat.

**April 17 2031, 8:06am**  
_I swear to god, even though Matt and Sam don’t believe me, but the creature tried to speak to us today._  
_It sounded like those growls we’ve been hearing at night. It wasn’t threatening._  
_It set the penguin down, and through those bloody jowls it said, “help,” like it knew about our food shortage and was trying to help._

**April 17 2031, 9:10am**  
_Matt and Sam think it might be the polar madness getting to me._  
_It feels like it’s constantly five o’clock. The sun is on the horizon, coloring the sky a brilliant red like the sunsets we would watch in the desert. But this is constant._  
_Soon, it’ll be darkness all the time._

**April 17 2031, 9:12am**  
_The Garrison still isn’t answering._

**April 17 2031, 9:13am**  
_I know there have to be answers here._

**April 20 2031, 11:43am**  
_Sorry I didn’t write for a few days. I’ve been busy, and I finally feel like I have something to report._  
_I found an old researchers’ laptop. They must’ve thought it was erased, but with a little convincing, Matt agreed to try to recover the documents. (I had to trade chamber pot and dish washing duty for a week, but I think it’ll be worth it)_

**April 23 2031, 10:04pm**  
_My eyes feel so dry from reading all of these documents._

**April 23 2031, 10:05pm**  
_Can you believe this scientist doesn’t know how to properly use commas?_  
_I think it’s actually driving me insane, one comma splice at a time_

**April 23 2031, 10:09pm**  
_Stuff like this makes me think of all of the little moments with you_  
_Like studying in the library_  
_Or convincing the librarians to let us stay after hours. Or how Matt found a way to secretly hook up a coffee maker in the library, and it took them three weeks to find it. I’m sure that your freshman year we both had a blood caffeine level of 1,000 haha_

**April 23 2031, 10:11pm**  
_I’m wishing you were here again_

**April 23 2031, 10:11pm**  
_God that feels so selfish to say_

**April 23 2031, 10:13pm**  
_But I do wish you were here, even if it meant condemning you to this fate._  
_And I don’t know what that says about me._

**April 24 2031, 9:33am**  
_Fish breakfast while I begin reading through Dr. Cossack’s diary entries._  
_Hopefully someone teaches this man punctuation (╬ Ò﹏Ó)_

Keith snorted a laugh, wiping the remnants of tears and snort onto the faded leather of his gloves.

But whatever lightness vanished the second he read Shiro’s next message.

**April 25 2031, 12:40pm**  
_You won’t believe this._  
_I don’t even think I believe this, and I’m currently reading through the recovered reports right now._  
_So you know the basis of the Kerberos mission: fly down, reactivate their old Antarctic base, gather some ice samples, and come back. Easy, right?_  
_Well, I thought so too. Never even thought to question why the base was shut down in the first place. Funding probably._

**April 25 2031, 12:40pm**  
_Nope_

**April 25 2031, 12:43pm**  
_They officially claimed it was a “contamination outbreak,” which I would believe if this scientist hadn’t been really passionate about journaling_  
_They keep referring to their subjects as G41:RA_  
_But they don’t sound like ice specimens or even something small like mice._

**April 25 2031, 12:57pm**  
_Read this paragraph:_  
_“Day 63: G41:RA subject No.03 spoke its first English word today. All it said was ‘no.’ We believed that they would have trouble enunciating and speaking with the shape of their muzzles. We’ve had more success with articulation of sounds in their humanoid forms._  
_It appears that there are two states the G41:RA can inhibit. As a fighting species, they have their warrior forms: large, almost bear like creatures with thin back legs and dexterous hands; and what we’ve been referring to as their humanoid forms: where they are bipedal with the same large hands and pupilless eyes, but appear almost human with the addition of purple fur, cat-like ears, and sharp, angular facial features._  
_Montegumary joked that they were the alien version of werewolves, and was curious to see how they would react to the cold of the Antarctic. Would they have to remain permanently in their warrior form because of the cold? We could let them run around for hours, like dogs in a yard, because there’s nowhere else to go._  
_All other subjects are either refusing to cooperate or unable to speak in their warrior form._  
_Subject No.07 seems to be one of the leaders of the pack, or they are afraid of it. It only has one eye and constantly growls and bares its teeth at us. We have isolated it and are no longer attempting to teach it or learn from it. After it snapped Wickim’s femur with the swipe of its hand, we’ve left it on its own._  
_We will continue to press forward with subject No.03 in hopes to communicate more thoroughly. The Garrison is continually pushing for information with the threat of an invasion on our hands.”_

**April 25 2031, 1:01pm**  
_I don’t even know what to say. If I’m to believe everything they’ve written, not take anything as hyperbole or exaggeration, then:_  
_1) aliens exist_  
_2) the Garrison knows aliens exist_  
_3) this base was originally created to house and experiment on them -- like an arctic Area 51_

**April 25 2031, 1:02pm**  
_Fuck_

**April 25 2031, 1:10pm**  
_But No.07_  
_It was the one that took my arm, that attacked our camp that first night. And their description of it is so accurate: the missing eye, the aggression._  
_And no other creature took over the base with it._  
_Maybe they were afraid of it._

**April 25 2031, 1:12pm**  
_Maybe I did them a favor by killing it._  
_Maybe they’re trying to pay us back with food._

**April 25 2031, 1:04pm**  
_I’m going to talk with Sam and Matt and get their opinion on this._  
_Because maybe the polar madness is getting to my brain._

Keith hesitated before scrolling down to the next message.

He’d seen a picture of the beast prowling around the base camp with the dark indigo of its fur and the unusual shape to its muzzle. Thin hind legs and a curved spine. All things that looked unnatural. Something that looked alien.

But it couldn’t possibly be one as much as Keith believed.

If he didn’t believe, then Shiro -- Shiro was --

**April 26 2031, 9:12am**  
_Matt and Sam are skeptical_  
_But just look at the thing around our camp. It doesn’t seem unintelligent. It’s like it knows exactly what’s going on._  
_It’s been feeding us, caring for us, partoling our territory -- I just --_

**April 26 2031, 9:13am**  
_I don’t know if it’s wishful thinking or if I’m really going mad down here_

**April 26 2031, 7:55pm**  
_I keep thinking about going to Hawaii with you_  
_Feeling the sun on my face and stretching out in the heat_

**April 26 2031, 7:57pm**  
_Sometimes I even dream about it_  
_The sun feels so real, burning comfortably against my skin and warming the ever-present cold I’m in now_  
_But then I’ll look beside me, and I’ll see you. And that’s how I know it’s a dream._  
_Because being with you is too good to be true._

**April 26 2031, 8:00pm**  
_I’m sorry._  
_I don’t think I can write for a few days._  
_It hurts a little too much to think about you and everything that I can’t have, especially with the height of winter around the corner._

Keith gritted his teeth, because how did Shiro think he felt?

The news of Shiro’s death plastered on every billboard, newstation, and website. The news of his failure, when they wouldn’t even document the cause.

The news that Keith had not only lost Shiro but the future he’d been hoping for. Because without Shiro’s recommendation or stamp of approval, there was no way that the Garrison was going to keep him -- not a juvenile delinquent with a sealed file as thick as his hand.

The Garrison didn’t believe in second chances.

And Keith had languished in it all.

**April 30 2031, 10:23am**  
_Okay, this is going to sound even crazier than before_  
_So I found some sound files of the G41:RA speaking with notes on their language, and I’ve been practicing. Just to see. Just for something to do._  
_And this morning when the smallest of the G41:RA that we’ve seen delivered a penguin for us to eat, I tried to speak to it._  
_I think I said, “Together we help.”_  
_But I must have said something wrong because the creature only huffed through its nose before turning and running back to their pack._  
_Matt and Sam didn’t consider it a laugh, but I did._

**April 30 2031, 10:24am**  
_Yeah, writing that made me feel crazier_

**April 30 2031, 10:30am**  
_But what if they’re trapped creatures like we are? Abandoned by the Garrison on this frozen tundra until we die._  
_But we’re not going to die_

**April 30 2031, 10:31am**  
_At least if these G41:RA keep helping us._

**April 30 2031, 10:32am**  
_That’s what I’ve got to ensure._

**May 1 2031, 8:57am**  
_The first creature that approached us was there this morning, and I’ve thankfully got it’s growls on tape. It didn’t sound like English, but I’m sure it was speaking to me. Unfortunately before I could try to respond this morning, it left._

**May 1 2031, 11:13am**  
_I decoded the message with Matt’s help. Because unfortunately the scientists didn’t develop a code for deciphering the language, and Matt said he was going to “shatter the speakers on my computer if I played another alien growl.”_  
_So he helped me make a program to decode the recording. It said something like, “Humans help once before. Prove trust.”_  
_But I don’t know how to prove our trust when we have been using a G41:RA’s hide for warmth. Used a G41:RA’s meat for food. A G41:RA I killed with my own hands._

**May 1 2031, 1:02pm**  
_I talked with Matt and Sam about inviting the creatures to use half of the base camp for the winter. We’ve been staying in the main cabin anyway, because we can’t afford to waste fuel for heating the entire thing._  
_They’ve agreed -- only if I move all of their science equipment into the room and fortify the door between._  
_So I guess that’s what I’m doing today._  
_Yay._

**May 2 2031, 8:59am**  
_Oh my god_

**May 2 2031, 9:00am**  
_I think I did it._

**May 2 2031, 9:03am**  
_The G41:RA really exploring part of the base. We can hear their muted growls and the tap of their claws against the metal floor._  
_It feels surreal and dangerous -- not like this entire mission hasn’t been dangerous since we landed here._

**May 3 2031, 9:11am**  
_I wanted to give them a few days to settle in._  
_But there isn’t much to do here other than try to practice their language. Matt and Sam have been more inclined to help me. Maybe they’ve realized that bonding with the G41:RA is the only way to survive Antarctica during the heart of winter._

**May 3 2031, 5:44pm**  
_So after I finished the series you downloaded on my phone, I started reading everything else you’d suggested. But now I’ve finished all the downloads, and it’s kind of bittersweet._  
_I couldn’t have read them during the winter anyway. There’s no way to recharge the phone with the solar cell if there is no sunlight. But it was also a comfort._  
_It makes me miss you more._

**May 3 2031, 5:47pm**  
_How are you doing?_  
_I’m sure the Garrison has declared us dead by now._

**May 3 2031, 5:56pm**  
_I hate the part of me that hopes that you don’t believe the Garrison, that you believe in me more than their lies. And I hate it, because wouldn’t it be easier to just let me go?_  
_I don’t know if I’m ever getting out of here, and yet I hope that you’ll fight against the Garrison for my sake._

**May 3 2031, 5:58pm**  
_I miss you, baby_  


Keith paused over the next message. It was a video, and the preview showed a blurry figure of Shiro standing before the towering purple creatures. The G41:RA.

**May 5 2031, 10:01am**  
_first_contact.mov_

Keith steadied himself and clicked on the file. It took up his entire phone screen, showing a shaky view of a poorly-lit room. Shiro had always been tall, towering over Keith and his colleagues, but standing before the G41:RA, he looked frail.

Maybe it was the hunched slope to his shoulders or the unbalanced way he motioned with his single arm. Maybe it was the lack of definition in his muscles from the miniscule food rations. Maybe it was living in the arctic when no one believes you’re alive?

 **FADE IN**  
INT. GARRISON ANTARCTIC BASE

TAKASHI SHIROGANE, a young man with greying hair and a missing arm, stands before a group of G41:RA, monstrous beasts of unknown origin. The largest stands before him with teeth bared and hackles raised.

SHIRO growls something unintelligible to the G41:RA before him.

MATT (V.O.)  
Shiro just said, ‘Work together. Want to help.’

The G41:RA looked stranger on camera, moving and sniffing like a canine when their features looked alien. Their purple fur glistened under the flickering fluorescent lights, covered in melting snow and a metallic sheen. The way it tilts its head to the side, teeth bared and ears pinned back, is an almost human-like expression on a creature’s face.

Shivers dart up Keith’s spine.

Matt continues to translate, voice whispered and crackling like he was speaking too close to the microphone.

MATT (CONT’D)  
The G41:RA said, ‘Human say they help before, but they only hurt.’  
Shiro said, ‘Those humans hurt us too. Want to work together to survive.’  
Oh fuck.

SAM (V.O.)  
Shiro, we couldn’t possibly!

SHIRO  
They left us here Sam. They left us here to die, and we can’t possibly think about what will happen when we return?

SAM (V.O.)  
Revenge though, Shiro?

Shiro turns on a heel, back to the G41:RA, and waves his missing arm at his comrades.

SHIRO  
They deserve to be torn apart by the media. They deserve to answer for all of the questions we’re going to stir up the moment we touch down. They deserve to lose their jobs --No, they deserve to go to jail, and --

The largest of the G41:RA growls, stepping up beside Shiro to show their support.

MATT (V.O.)  
They said they would help.

Cut to **Black**

**May 5 2031, 10:02am**  
_I don’t even know what we just agreed to_  
_But the G41:RA agreed_  
_We’re still ironing out the details, but -- but I did it!_

**May 5 2031, 10:04am**  
_We’re surviving the winter_  
_The G41:RA will gather food for us as long as we promise to help them return to their ship_  
_And since we haven’t found any sign of their ship here, it’s got to be someone on Garrison’s main base._  
_Or in the illusive Area 51 that you’ve always joked about_

**May 5 2031, 10:09am**  
_But I’m going to come home to you, baby_

**May 5 2031, 10:10am**  
_Whatever it takes_

**May 7 2031, 4:31pm**  
_The G41:RA are actually rather talkative creatures once you understand them!_  
_I guess that explains all the growling we initially heard around the base._  
_But I’m not sure I can listen to them detail the horrors the Garrison inflicted on them. Those monsters acted like the G41:RA weren’t intelligent creatures, and abused their desire to learn in order to exploit them._

**May 7 2031, 4:33pm**  
_They’ve asked us to call them by their name in their native tongue. It sounds like Galra, but the tones are a little too throaty to properly translate._

**May 7 2031, 4:34pm**  
_Speaking of translate! Matt has been working on the translator with some of the Galra, and it’s been progressing at lightning speed!_

**May 7 2031, 4:37pm**  
_I’ve been talking most with Kolivan, the leader of the Galra._  
_He’s comforted me by telling me that the first Galra I killed was insane. Kolivan actually thanked me for putting the creature out of his misery, and he apologized for the loss of my arm. But Sendak, the Galra that initially attacked our base, had been long driven mad by the deeds of the Garrison -- he even turned against his own kind and forged for himself._  
_Although learning how intelligent these creatures really are, I am sad about how I wore Sendak’s fur like a trophy and savored the taste of his flesh._

Keith wants to yell, because they had been forced to survive in the harsh environment of the arctic. Shiro had just defended himself and his team, sacrificing his arm for the protection of their base, sacrificing so much more than should’ve been possible.

**May 8 2031, 12:12pm**  
_We’ve been suspecting that the Garrison believed that there was no possible way for the Galra to survive in Antarctica._  
_Sam even remembers them sending out preliminary drones to scope out the area. We assume that they came back without detecting the Galra, and this mission was created: take back the base now that the Galra had finally died off._  
_But of course when we didn’t report in, they suspected the worst and declared us dead._  
_Or worse._

**May 8 2031, 12:13pm**  
_I know that they’ve already announced my death. I just hoped they spared you the worst of it, Keith._

**May 8 2031, 12:14pm**  
_With all my heart I hope that you are doing alright, and I hope that my reappearance doesn’t ruin everything you’ve achieved since the mission launch._  
_But I am too selfish to avoid you._

**May 8 2031, 12:16pm**  
_The thought of you has been my rock this whole time -- this diary, imaging all these messages are sending to you, has kept me sane._  
_It’s almost the depth of winter here._  
_Snow storms are constantly shaking the base and threatening to tear it to pieces. Even the Galra with their purple fur, so stark against the white tundra, are lost in the snow and winds._

**May 8 2031, 12:17pm**  
_And with the depth of winter comes the darkness_  
_At the horizon, the sun has colored the world in autumn hues. All orange and red like fire. But soon I won't be able to charge this phone, and we can’t afford the fuel to charge it._

**May 8 2031, 12:20pm**  
_It’s stupid_

**May 8 2031, 12:21pm**  
_But I feel like I’m losing you all over again._

**May 10 2031, 3:55pm**  
_Kolivan made a joke about biting off Dr. Cossack’s head_  
_Sam didn’t think it was funny, but Matt and I laughed so hard we cried_

**May 10 2031, 3:56pm**  
_Is this polar madness? haha_

**May 11 2031, 9:46pm**  
_Matt, Sam, and I have planned out our next few months here: what we need to achieve before we can leave._  
_We’re pretty sure that the ship is operational, but it depends on the strength of the winter storms. I’m sure it can weather them, but we won’t be sure until winter ends and sunlight returns._

**May 11 2031, 9:47pm**  
_We’ll also be carrying a lot of additional weight_  
_But the Galra said that they can travel in their humanoid forms (rather than the warrior forms we are accustomed to) to conserve space._

**May 12 2031, 11:08pm**  
_Now that salvation is on the horizon, I have mixed feelings about all of these messages sending_

**May 12 2031, 11:09pm**  
_It shows my feelings from a really dark place_  
_And I can’t exactly be proud of my confession to you_

**May 12 2031, 11:10pm**  
_You deserve something better than that_  
_But the knowledge that I could give you some solace before I touchdown is worth everything_

**May 12 2031, 11:11pm**  
_I hope that you’ve been okay, and I can only wish that you’ll read these messages and still feel the same_

**May 12 2031, 11:12pm**  
_I love you, Keith_  
_To the stars and back_

Keith’s grip tightened on the phone as he hastily wiped away the tears that blurred his vision. Sniffling, he continued to read even as he noticed the way the scroll bar had almost reached the end.

These messages were coming to an end, and Keith was almost desperate to stay in this purgatory -- where Shiro’s hope was so poignant and the prospect of him being alive was bright and colorful.

But he knew winter in the arctic was harsh, so he continued to read even if the messages brought the worst news after the brightest hope.

**May 15 2031, 8:32am**  
_Apparently the Galra thought we preferred penguins to fish, so we’ve been getting a lot more fish recently. The change is so nice, but all I want is some fruit or vegetables_  
_Or pizza._  
_I would kill for pizza._

**May 15 2031, 8:34am**  
_Thankfully there are stores of vitamins, so we’re not getting scurvy any time soon!_  
_Don’t need to add bleeding gums to our list of problems_

**May 15 2031, 10:51pm**  
_My arm still aches some nights_  
_I wake with the feeling of Sendak’s jaw snapping my bones and the sensation of my blood splattering and steaming against the cold floor. The weight of the knife as I dug it into the creature’s eye and killed it with my flesh still dangling between its teeth._  
_It haunts me._

**May 15 2031, 10:52pm**  
_It makes me never want to come home_  
_Because how could you love me like this_

**May 15 2031, 10:55pm**  
_I’m not the same man I was six months ago_

Keith wished Shiro was here, even more than he had for all of these months. Wished that he could grab Shiro by the collar and kiss him, tell him that it was ridiculous to expect Keith to stop loving him.

He had loved Shiro for years, and that wasn’t going to change now.

**May 16 2031, 3:07pm**  
_The best thing about this never ending darkness is the stars_  
_I wish I could show them all to you, Keith_  
_I swear that there are millions more here than any other place in the world_

**May 16 2031, 3:08pm**  
_Just seeing it makes all this almost worth it_  
_almost._

**May 19 2031, 11:38pm**  
_It’s been complete darkness for days_  
_Maybe weeks?_  
_I don’t know if I can see my way out of all of this_  
_I can’t recharge my phone with the solar powercell, and we’re running low on fuel as it is._  
_This will be my last entry until the peak of winter passes._  
_I love you, Keith, my starlight._

Then Keith counted the months between the next message, and at the sight of the date, his heart started to pound in his chest. A rhythmic beat that increased with each shallow breath.

Because this couldn’t be real.

**August 3 2031, 3:42am**  
_We’re coming home._  
_And I’m coming for you, baby._

It was sent this morning, hours before the start of the funeral.

Did that mean Shiro had cell service? Did that mean he’d succeeded? Were they flying from Antarctica now with a pride of aliens onboard?

Keith jumped to his feet, grabbed his keys, and sprinted out the door. Whatever booze had sung in this blood from the stolen champagne burnt off in a second. Thrusting the engine and darting away from his shed in a burst of dust, Keith sped towards the Garrison.

Because he knew that was where Shiro was heading.

If they had survived that long, the first thing they would do when coming back was prove themselves right or try to demand explanations or expose the Garrison for the despicable organization it was. They had said as much during the one video Shiro had sent.

And Keith wanted a front row seat to the action.

He fumbled through his phone, bringing up barely used contacts and dialing them. He prayed that Matt’s sister was as smart as he claimed she was.

“Hello, you’ve reached Matt Holt’s phone, what can--”

“Pidge?” Keith choked out, turning a little too hard at the curve in the road. The taste and grit of sand bit into his tongue as he continued. “Is this Pidge Holt? I need --”

“Who are you?” Her voice was curt, something he expected after the events from today.

“Matt’s alive. They’re all alive, and they’re coming back!” Keith could feel himself spiraling, vision tunneling on the mile before him, stretching through the desert and absent of all cars. “Shiro sent me messages, and I didn’t get them until now. I needed you to know, because I know you never stopped believing. The Garrison abandoned them! They knew they reached the base, but they didn’t try to stage a rescue mission or anything.”

Keith was breathing heavily, leaning over the handlebars of the hoverbike and pushing it forward until the engine whined.

There was a moment when stillness and the hum of the road beneath the bike was the only thing that echoed on the phone. Pidge breathed, “Who are you? Only people I like call me Pidge.”

“Keith Kogane. Shiro was my--” he floundered for the word with the weight of the text messages on his mind, the knowledge that Shiro not only confessed, but used their future together as an anchor, a touchstone, a reprieve, in times of trouble. “--mentor at the Garrison before I was kicked out.”

“Meet me at the cafe on South and Pine in five.”

Before Keith could say anything, to demand to talk after he tore through the Garrison, after Shiro landed the aircraft and stormed out to take the world by storm, a dial tone sounded in his ear. Cursing under his breath, Keith took the next left and weaved through traffic.

~❅~❅~❅~

Pidge was still wearing her black dress, hem ending just above her knees. Half of the tulle was dampened with some sort of liquid that dripped down the length of her shin. With her glasses pushed up on her head, she looked younger. Bangs pinned back and wide eyes scanning the road for him.

Keith didn’t bother to parallel park. He pulled up on the sidewalk and practically growled at the people who mumbled under their breath about him.

“Keith?” Pidge pushed forward, eyes wide and hands winding into the fluffy tulle of her skirt.

“Pidge!” Keith couldn’t hold back his excitement as he fished his phone from his pocket and shoved it into her hands. “Shiro was using his phone as a diary, and all the messages finally sent! I got them all! He--he talks about everything that happened, logging all of his conversations with the Garrison.” He could tell that he was rambling, and Pidge wasn’t even paying attention as she skimmed through the messages.

It felt like forever watching her scroll through.

When he had taken thirty minutes to read all 206 of them -- absorbing and relishing in every word Shiro had sent him over the nine months he was gone -- Pidge was done reading them in four.

Her eyes held a mischievous glint.

“Oh, hell yes.”

Without another word, she pushed the phone back into his hands and climbed on the back of his bike.

Keith’s grin felt more like a grimace than a smile, but with a roar of the engine, he pulled off the sidewalk and gunned it for the Garrison. Pidge’s hands were tight around his stomach, clutching into the wrinkled fabric of his too-small dress shirt.

Pulling one hand back, Pidge sent a series of messages and made loud phone calls -- yelling into the wind and cursing when she had to repeat herself.

Keith leaned over the handlebars and pushed the bike until the engine whined.

~❅~❅~❅~

The Garrison looked the same as it did this morning. Brilliant against the bronze mountainous backdrop and completely unaware of the media shit storm that was about to go down.

Reporters and news vans were slowly trickling in and parking by the front gate. A series of armed guards stood protecting the Garrison, arms crossed and weapons visible on their thighs. There were more than normal, and Keith couldn’t fight his smile as he caught another three sprinting in to assist.

Keith parked the bike right in front of the gate, screwing traffic laws and the irritated yelling of the soldiers behind him.

The media paused, eyes fixed on him and Pidge, as they tore their helmets off and stood tall. Pidge dusted off the edge of her dress, and Keith rolled up the arms of his dress shirt. Sharing one tiny, victorious smile, they faced the media.

“Thank you all for coming,” Pidge began as several cameras clicked on and microphones were shoved towards her face. “We’ve called you all here, because we believe that the world needs to witness this so that the Garrison can’t try to bury their dead behind closed doors.”

“What does that mean?” A reporter called out.

Pidge was undeterred and kept her steady pace. “Eight months ago, the Garrison launched the Kerberos mission. It was a mission to the South Pole research base they’d abandoned five years ago. The goal was to reopen the base for further use, but the three men on the mission were declared dead soon after launch. As you well know, the Garrison has claimed that it was due a pilot error that the team never reached the base.

“Their funeral was held today, because the Garrison believes that the team couldn’t have survived the harsh Antarctic winter with their meager supplies, even if they had managed to make it to the base.”

Keith curled his hands to fists, teeth set on edge. He remembered the media that gathered around the outskirts of the Garrison when they’d made the announcement, when they’d tarnished Shiro’s name, when they’d made Shiro the scapegoat for their failure.

How they’d gathered earlier today, looking for a statement from a family member or another bit of gossip -- anything to sell more tabloids.

Pidge cleared her throat, straightening her shoulders and seeming so much older than her eighteen years. “But all of that is untrue. The Garrison--”

“They’re alive!” Keith couldn’t help himself, stepping forward and declaring to the whole world what Shiro had trusted him with. “The Kerberos mission was successful. They landed on Antarctica and reclaimed the base, but the Garrison hid that fact because their old mission came back to haunt them.”

“Keith--” Pidge warned in a low growl, but Keith couldn’t hear her over the thruming of his own heart.

“You might not believe me, but just wait until the plane lands. You’ll finally get to see the survivors of the Kerberos mission and the aliens the Garrison trapped in Antarctica for their own experiments.” Keith straightened his shoulders and looked straight into one of the cameras, no matter how the lights burned his eyes.

One reporter raised a hand, a notebook held up in the other. “I’m sorry, but could you please elaborate on the _aliens_.” Her tone was skeptical as she brushed a lock of blonde hair behind her ear and posed a pen over her paper.

Pidge groaned and rubbed a hand down her face.

But Keith was undeterred. He knew that Shiro wouldn’t have left the G41:RA on the tundra, not after the help that let them live through the winter. “The G41:RA, or Galra as they prefer to be called, made contact years ago. But rather than taking them to Area 51 or exposing their existence to the public, the Garrison made the Antarctic base to hide and experiment on them there.”

Pidge’s fingers curled into the bare skin of Keith’s forearm. With every twitch of her hand, her nails pressed deeper into his skin. He knew that she was begging him to shut up, to let her handle the delicate balance with the media.

But Shiro was the one who had trusted him with all of this knowledge, and he knew he had to tell the world.

Several reporters started yelling at once, questions shrill against the warm Arizona wind.

“How do you know all of this?”

“Who are you?”

“Who are your sources?”

Keith fumbled under the force of their questions, but the grip of Pidge’s hand had him steadying. “Shiro -- Takashi Shirogane, pilot of the Kerberos mission --”

“The one who crashed?”

“-- sent me messages during his time in Antarctica. I only just received them when he regained service during the flight back.” Keith cleared his throat and had the urge to loosen the tightness of his tie when he wasn’t even wearing one. “Shiro--”

A loud rumble cut off any further questions. It was a sound that was so familiar to Keith. It haunted his dreams and tarnished the launches that Keith had always looked forward to. The taste of metal sat on the back of his tongue as he watched the plane part the clouds and land on the front lawn of Garrison property.

Keith couldn’t bite down his smile at Shiro’s audacity.

The plane glinted off the sun, chrome and brilliant. Emblazoned on the side was the Kerberos symbol with the name proudly stated beneath it.

All the breath left Keith’s lungs in a rush, like James Griffin had knocked the wind out of him again and smiled smugly from above him on the training mats. But this was a kind of breathlessness Keith would experience again and again.

Shiro had landed.

With the surge of reporters, they pushed through the gate and marched onto Garrison property. Keith and Pidge led the charge with widening smiles and tears glinting at the corners of their eyes. The soldiers were yelling, threatening to call superiors with their guns heavy in their hands. But even if the reporters paused, Keith rushed forward towards the door of the plane.

The engines died, leaving the air too quiet.

The door hissed opened and a series of camera flashes like stars unfurled. But Keith couldn’t focus on that, only the man that stood in the threshold, looking larger than life.

Shiro stepped into the sunlight, gleaming off the hull of the plane and catching on the stark white of his hair -- like he had brought a piece of the arctic back with him.

Keith froze at the sight.

Shiro’s hand rested on his brow, shielding his eyes from the harsh summer sun, and Keith had never seen anything more radiant. Even with the lack of muscle definition, Shiro was still broad. Skin pale and the scar that bisected his nose was a puckered pink that was stark against the pallor of his features. There was a strange readjustment to balancing his vision, learning the sight of Shiro with only one arm, the other lost just above the elbow. He looked like he had in all of those pictures and videos, but there was something more ethereal about him -- because he was here.

He was here.

He was alive.

He came back for Keith, just like he said he would.

This wasn’t all an elaborate dream, something concocted from stolen champagne and grief. It was a reality that felt too impossible to be real.

Keith took an aborted step forward. Limbs weak and mouth suddenly dry. His heartbeat was thunderous in his ears, so he couldn’t hear the flutter of shutters behind him, reporters speaking in microphones, or a rush of shouted questions for the risen Kerberos team.

Keith noticed the moment that Shiro’s eyes landed on him, and it was like the world finally came into focus.

“Shiro,” Keith breathed.

Shiro’s hand dropped from above his eyes, and his lips parted with a whisper of Keith’s name, “Keith -- Keith, you’re--”

At the sound of his name on Shiro’s lips, Keith couldn’t fight back a sob. He rushed forward, ignoring the way sweat gathered on the back of his neck under the midafternoon heat. All he could focus on Shiro -- on the way he rushed down the few stairs to the tarmac, on the way he called out Keith’s name, and spread his arm wide in invitation.

Keith barrelled into Shiro, winding his arms around his neck and burying his face in Shiro’s collar. He was standing on the tips of his toes in order to hide his tears from the flash of cameras. Shiro wound his left arm around Keith’s waist and tugged him against his chest.

Inhaling deeply, Keith relished in the scent of Shiro so close, but he smelled so foreign -- nothing like the Garrison issued toiletries.

“I got all of your messages,” Keith mumbled against the heat of Shiro’s neck. “I--I--I can’t believe this isn’t a dream.”

“I can’t either, baby,” Shiro said softly.

Even if Keith wasn’t pressed against Shiro’s chest, he would’ve realized how tense Shiro became after whispering the pet name.

Pulling back just enough to meet Shiro’s eyes, Keith fought to memorize this moment. There was unending tenderness to Shiro’s expression, but tension sat in the corners of his lips. The puckered scar across his nose only served to highlight the sharpness of his features and the stormy grey of his irises.

“Keith--”

“You were right.” Keith stitched up the distance between them so he spoke the next words against Shiro’s lips, “I do like it when you call me that.”

Without wasting another minute, Keith kissed Shiro -- the man that he’d loved since he was 18, the man that had fought to come back to him from a place further than the universe. And it was like all of the stars aligned. Like the Earth shifted to fall into their orbit. Like time stopped so he could enjoy the heated press of Shiro’s lips.

Winding his fingers into the long hair at the nape of Shiro’s neck, Keith pressed deeper. He shivered at the moan that sounded at the back of Shiro’s throat. The arm wrapped around his waist squeezed impossibly tighter. Keith curled his fingers and sighed against Shiro’s lips.

Shiro finally pulled back and exhaled sharply.

Slowly opening his eyes, Keith met Shiro’s gaze. “I love you too, Shiro. I love you so goddamn much.”

“Keith--”

“I would’ve come to get you if you weren’t already on your way. I would’ve stolen a Garrison plane and come to get you.”

Shiro chuckled and pulled Keith even closer. “I don’t doubt that, starlight.”

Keith shivered at hearing Shiro’s lips say the pet name he had so affectionately called Keith over text. It was so much more visceral in real life. And Keith wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I love you, Keith, and I’m sorry that I couldn’t say it in person, but--”

Keith cut him off with another kiss, wondering if he was ever going to get used to the sensation of his blood turning to electricity. Kissing Shiro was like being a conduit for divinity. It was like every cliche young adult book or movie: fireworks. But how else could Keith describe the way his heart thundered in his chest or how his lungs filled with butterflies.

It was unreal.

It was ethereal.

It was like the aurora borealis. Lights in the sky when there was nothing but darkness, colorful and vibrant and a phenomenon beyond human understanding.

“I love you, Shiro,” Keith whispered against his lips, fingertips digging even more harshly into the stiff fabric of Shiro’s collar. “I wouldn’t have this any other way. You came back to me.”

“Always.” Shiro’s hand curled in Keith’s too tight dress shirt., “Always for you, Keith.”

The sound of the reporters shouting questions and Pidge’s screams over her family’s reappearance suddenly returned. Keith pulled back from Shiro, just enough that he could face the reporters he had called here -- but close enough to still be tucked into Shiro’s side. He realized that he never wanted to be anywhere else.

Shiro took a steadying breath before turning back to the plane.

“Kolivan, you can come out now,” he announced, and Keith steeled himself.

The Galra in their humanoid forms stepped from the plane, skin covered in a light layer of purple fur. Their canine ears still jutted from tuffs of darker hair along their scalp and twitched with each shout and flash. Even in these lesser forms, they hadn’t lost any of their muscle definition or inhumanity. They looked truly alien.

The reporters gasped, and Shiro mumbled under his breath, “Smile for the cameras.”

~❅~❅~❅~

It was a circus, a virus that the Garrison couldn’t contain.

Aliens were real, but that wasn’t even the craziest part for Keith.

The craziest part was that Shiro had returned.

Or maybe it was the way Shiro looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky. Maybe it was the new starlight color to Shiro’s hair or the prosthetic that Matt was designing at lightning speed. Maybe it was Shiro’s bank account that had more digits than Keith’s phone number. Maybe it was the weight of grief that finally lifted off both of their shoulders.

Maybe it was the fact that this finally stopped feeling like a dream and started feeling like reality.

~❅~❅~❅~

“So,” Shiro leaned in, eyes glinting and looking so alive compared to when he first stepped off the Kerberos airplane, “Hawaii?”

Keith tipped his head back so that he could meet Shiro’s gaze. It was familiar to be so close to Shiro, but it was so strange, because there was a weight to Shiro’s hand on his back, a promise in his gaze, and a warmth to his smile. “Only if you’re proposing,” Keith chuckled.

“Would you say yes if I was?” Shiro whispered in a gust of hot breath that sent shivers down the length of Keith’s spine.

“Yes,” Keith breathed.

Shiro paused as if considering him, considering all the time that had passed between them.

Keith pressed forward, pushing into Shiro and his warmth and the confidence of his hands, “I would’ve said yes years ago.”

Shiro swallowed harshly, and Keith couldn’t fight the urge to glance at Shiro’s lips, no longer chapped from the harsh arctic weather. Wondering if now, after all of their feelings were so evident, if kissing Shiro would be alright.

It was the softest brush of lips, chaste and delicate, and it set Keith’s lungs alight.

Curling his fists into the collar of Shiro’s shirt, Keith closed the distance between them and dared to do everything he’d regretted not doing when Shiro was gone. Slipped his tongue between Shiro’s lips and moaned at the taste. Rose on his tiptoes and threaded his fingers through Shiro’s hair. Relished in every moment of heat building between them.

They broke apart to breathe.

Shiro’s eyes glittered like mercury.

“Anything for you, baby.” The pet name was so sweet on Shiro’s lips that Keith had to lean in and tasted it. Because Shiro had returned and he was Keith’s and that was more than Keith could ever ask for.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this fic, because it was a lot of fun to write and come back to after so long!!
> 
> ((also I definitely didn't do enough research on Antarctica and weather patterns, and I'm sorry for any inaccuracies!!))
> 
> Wishing you all well during the craziness of COVID-19, and I hope that this fic helped take your mind off it all (°◡°♡)


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